Page 33 of Dirty Temptation

“Oh my god. We’re not on anything.” Payton giggles. “I’m pregnant, remember.”

I flop back on the bed and let the laughter roll through me. I haven’t laughed like this in weeks. It feels good.

When Payton does the same I turn my head to grin at her and find my gaze locked with Atlas. His eyes sparkle, and I might be wrong, but he looks like he’s as happy as I am to see me having fun.

What is that about?

“Okay well as long as you are okay.” Knox pushes his brothers back and closes the door and we lay there snickering for a little while longer.

Then Payton turns her head. “So what happened with Greg?”

My smile fades.

“And how does Atlas know about it?”

Shit.

Greg is the son of a family my grandfather was close to. He helped Mom and me sell a bunch of things and trash whatever else we didn’t want to take back to the US.

Mom had met my father when he was younger and visiting London, moving to the United States to have me.

When my grandmother died a few years ago, we knew Grandpa wouldn’t want to move countries so Greg’s family—Mom went to school with his mother —has been keeping an eyeon him. He was a stubborn and independent man. I thought nothing would ever kill him, honestly.

But his heart just stopped.

“I think his heart broke when your grandma died.” Greg said one night when we sat out in the garden drinking Pimm’s and ginger ale.

It was my grandma’s favorite drink that Grandpa made for her every Saturday evening. So in their honor, Greg and I decided to have one.

Damn it was good.

“Or he was just old.” I shrug.

“You’re not very romantic, are you?” Greg grinned at me.

“Not anymore.”

“Why? Because it didn’t work out with one guy?” he’d replied.

Greg, like all of our family friends, knew I was engaged and that it had ended. Not the part where Steve was married to another woman,.

When I glanced away, embarrassed, Greg had reached out and placed his hand on my arm.

“Hey. We all get our heart broken.”

“I know. This is just...different. I...”

Then I told him.

Perhaps it was because I was grieving or that I needed to tell someone, but I told Greg what happened with Steve and to his credit I never saw judgment in his eyes.

“Who doesn’t meet a man’s family before accepting a marriage proposal?” I shook my head.

“Lots of people, I’m sure,” Greg replied. “The question you should be asking is what kind of guy cheats on his wife and proposes to someone else? You are a victim here, Molly. You have no reason to be embarrassed.”

“Well I am,” I’d said and tossed back my Pimm’s, standing to leave.

Greg stood and took my shoulders, looked me right in the eye, and in his sexy English accent said, “If you were my girl, I’d never look at another woman ever again, Molly Carter.”

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